Afterwards, although it was below freezing outside and I was only wearing a dress, tights, and a fur coat, we headed over to Republique and went to a cute bar Alimentation General. Big, dancey, good music. The minute I walked in this french girl came up to me and started touching me and asked me if I wanted a drink, and asked if I was a rockstar. I thought she asked me if I was lost, so I was like "NO!" and then she got the hint that I wasn't interested so she walked away. Then she came back again later.
This guy started talking to me and told me that he was a photographer for vogue and that he had a warehouse party next week for artists and he wanted me to go. He and his friends told me that my french was very good, I told them they were lying. They said no really, you don't have an accent. I said you're lying. After I got home he called me, sent me 3 texts telling me that I should go over to his house before the event and have drinks and that my friends were welcome to come with me.. Hm..
After 3 hours of sleep I woke up at 7 still drunk and went to meet Carla at Gare du Nord for Madrid. Unfortunately, the gate was changed and we were not notified, so we ended up missing our flight. It would have costed another 52 euros to change the flight to the next one, which departs at 9pm tonight. For me it wasn't worth it, because I would have had to leave on Sunday night anyway and would only have 1 day there. We also didn't book a hostel and the whole trip wasn't planned out well, and I also was vacillating between wanting to go and not wanting to go.
Thanks to my thinking seminar from last semester, I remembered sunk costs, and how even though I already spent money on the ticket, it is a sunk cost and should not be factored into my decision of going or not, because it's money that's already been spent and if I considered it, and thought that I should go to make sure I didn't waste the money, then I would be spending more money to justify spending the sunk cost, which doesn't make sense logically. Keeping that in mind, I decided it was best to stay in Paris.
Then, as we boarded the train, I saw Jack Greer walk in to the same car as us. I haven't seen Jack is over a year, probably. We've known each other since highschool in LA. He said "Holy sht!" when I said hello, it's such a small world! He told us he just got in because he has a gallery opening on Saturday in the marais and invited me to it. If this wasn't a sign reaffirming that I should stay in Paris this weekend, I don't know what is. The chances of getting in the same car, let alone the same train, at that very moment are so, so small. Man.
Anyway, now I'm home, showered, thank god. Going to Merce and the Muse soon to get some work done (I promised myself that since I stayed I would be SUPER productive since I would have had to pull all nighters next week for all my work if I went to Madrid and I didn't want to waste a weekend here) and then to the Pompidou library afterwards, and then tonight, who knows!
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